


London

by stupid_drawings



Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupid_drawings/pseuds/stupid_drawings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John enjoy a flight with MJN Air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	London

**Author's Note:**

> I could not decide between narrative or script style, so I used both depending on POV. Thanks to my beta, Winter_of_Our_Discontent who is both a great editor and gives good back rubs, and thanks to Emsana on LJ for britpicking. Any errors that remain are mine, as were the errors they so kindly fixed.

Carolyn: I am so pleased you have chosen to fly MJN Air.  
Sherlock: … MJN... My Jet Now?  
Carolyn: What? Who told you that? If Arthur’s been [interrupted]  
John: Sorry! Sorry, he means no offense. Sherlock means nothing by it. Sorry, please don’t be offended. _Sherlock_.  
Sherlock: Captain.  
Martin: No, I’M the capt-oh, yes. Yes, sorry, most people think Douglas is the captain.  
Sherlock: Most people are idiots.  
Carolyn: Yes, I couldn’t agree more. Now off you go, have a nice flight. Don’t hurry back.

...

One of the differences, John mused, between Sherlock and himself was that he tended to go for large and well-known companies whereas Sherlock most definitely did not. He eyed the small plane warily. It wasn’t going to be a very long flight, so hopefully that cut down on their chances of crashing. Hopefully.

The owner of the company herself had greeted Sherlock and John on their arrival at the airfield. John was adequately impressed, and then adequately embarrassed when Sherlock said something to agitate her.  
“But that _is_ what MJN stands for, you can tell by her reaction. She has ‘spiteful divorcee’ written all over her.”  
“Be that as it may, Sherlock, she is the CEO of the airline, so do not piss her off.”  
Sherlock scoffed. “This is their only jet, hardly an _airline_.”

The two pilots walked into the office to greet John and Sherlock. John gasped in shock when he saw the younger of the two. At first glace he looked startlingly similar to Sherlock. But after John took a moment to observe, he started to notice a variety of small differences. There was, of course, the obvious hair colour and the height difference. Sherlock was also paler and thinner than the pilot. Sherlock’s eyes were sharper, more slanted. They had quite similar face shapes and their noses and lips were quite close, though Sherlock’s were a bit more angular. They would not be confused for twins, but they were comparable enough to be cousins or possibly even brothers.

They boarded the small plane and took their seats, Sherlock spreading out over two. John sat in the row next to him until Sherlock’s irritated mutterings got too annoying. He got up and moved to the back of the plane. The take off went fairly smoothly, though John still spent the entire ascent white-knuckled. After the small plane levelled out, he started to relax.

...

Martin: Haberdasher.  
Douglas: Aglet.  
Martin: Aglet doesn’t sound very interesting.  
Douglas: Be that as it may, an aglet is even less interesting than the name would imply, and thus still in the spirit of the game. An aglet being the piece of plastic on the tip of a shoelace.  
Martin: Okay, fine. Oh, Whirling Dervish.  
Douglas: That does not count. ‘Whirling Dervish’ is a proper noun and are more interesting than their name. Arguably, of course. I’m not much for spinning Turks, but I hear some people are quite fond.  
Martin: Damn. Gottle o’ geer.  
Douglas: And that is just a bad ventriloquist joke. Onomatopoeia.  
Martin: Quotidian!  
Douglas: Good one.

...

Arthur: Wow, you look just like Skip!  
Sherlock: Skip being a nickname for the captain, whom I look nothing like.  
Arthur: Yeah. But you do.  
Sherlock: We will have to agree to disagree. You act as the stewart on board this aircraft, and yet all you seem to be doing is attempting small talk.  
Arthur: Wow! You really _are_ a good detective! Brilliant!  
Sherlock: Comparatively, it would be an achievement not to be.

...

Douglas: No you’re not.  
Martin: What do you mean, no? Of course I am brave. Oh, temerarious.  
Douglas: Fine. But really? If you’re so brave, prove it.  
Martin: Prove it? I don’t need to prove it. I _am_ brave, Douglas.  
Douglas: Fine, if you are so brave, go ask out that Holmes chap.  
Martin:... No. No, because I do not need to prove I am brave.  
Douglas: or you’re scared.  
Martin: I am not scared. Why would I be scared?  
Douglas: Because he seems like a bit of an intimidating fellow. If you were brave, he would pose no challenge, though.  
Martin: Well, he was fairly attractive.  
Douglas: Yes, he does look like the type you’d go for...So, it’s settled, then. I bet you [interrupted]  
Martin: No bets, Douglas!  
Douglas: For the landing. I will bet you the landing that you will not ask out Sherlock Holmes.  
Martin: Only if you agree not to comment on my landing.  
Douglas: Fine.

...

Arthur: Wow, Skip, that guy looks just like [interrupted]  
Douglas: A detective. That is because he is a detective, Arthur.  
Arthur: Yeah, but he also looks like [interrupted]  
Douglas: Arthur? Did you make the coffee yet?  
Arthur: No, now that you bring it up I went and talked to the passengers instead. That one guy really [interrupted]  
Douglas: Arthur. Coffee.  
Arthur: Right, yeah. Coming right up.  
Martin: What was that about?  
Douglas: What is anything Arthur says ever about?  
Martin: Point.  
Douglas: Now if you’ll excuse me. Won’t be a moment.

...

Douglas: Arthur, I need you to do me a favour and not mention to Martin that he looks like Mr. Holmes.  
Arthur: Why?  
Douglas: For the sake of morbid curiosity.  
Arthur: Oh, right. Okay. What does that mean?  
Douglas: It probably means I am a masochist. Arthur, just make the coffee and try to stay quiet.

...

John was finally starting to relax. Perhaps the plane looked worse than it actually was. Though Sherlock was only eight meters or so away, John was enjoying his alone time and was using it to catch up on current events without Sherlock’s running commentary.

...

Martin: Hi, er. Hello. Sorry.  
Sherlock: Why are you apologizing?  
Martin: For disturbing you.  
Sherlock: Yes?  
Martin: Yes.  
Sherlock: Was there a reason for disturbing me?  
Martin: Oh! Yes, sorry. Oh, sorry, I am saying sorry a lot, aren’t I? Sorry.  
Sherlock: The reason...?  
Martin: I was wondering if you would be willing to have dinner sometime?  
Sherlock: I am not eating, but John will have his dinner now. Is it customary for the captain to do the in-flight service on all MJN Air flights?  
Martin: No, I mean, no. No.  
Sherlock: Then I am flattered to be treated in such a professional manner.  
Martin: Oh, yes, professional. I am. Thank you.  
Sherlock: No, thank you. Do not let me keep you, I am sure you are very busy, Captain.

...

John was just getting to the human interest stories in his newspaper when he was politely interrupted by the captain. He was so socially awkward and nervous that John decided to have mercy on him and help him out. Besides, he did kind of look like Sherlock.

...

Martin: Hi. Doctor, hi.  
John: Hello. Captain Crieff, wasn’t it?  
Martin: Yes. Um... I was.. um, wondering.  
John: … Anything in particular?  
Martin: Oh, yes, sorry. Are, um, are you and...  
John: Sherlock?  
Martin: Yes, are you and Sherlock...? Well...  
John: Are we dating? No. We’re not.  
Martin: Oh. Oh, that’s good. I mean, um.. So...  
John: Yes?  
Martin: So you wouldn’t mind if I... Er...  
John: Martin, yes, I’d love to go out on a date with you.  
Martin: I... Actually I was going to.. Wait, you, you would?

...

Douglas: So you did not get the date.  
Martin: No, Douglas, I did get a date.  
Douglas: But not _the_ date. You asked out the wrong person, Martin.  
Martin: Douglas, if anything, it’s an upgrade. He’s a doctor.  
Douglas: A shame, I really did think you and Holmes would have looked good together.  
Martin: Well, yes, he is the more attractive one, but Doctor Watson isn’t bad looking and he is much more...  
Douglas: Approachable?  
Martin: Yes. I mean, no. Nice. I was brave enough to get a date with him.  
Douglas: Still, the bet was that you would get a date with Mr. Holmes.  
Martin: No, the bet was for me to ask him out, and I did, kind of.  
Douglas: And he said no? What a surprise.  
Martin: No. He didn’t say no, he just... misinterpreted my question.  
Douglas: Misinterpreted? _That_ man?

...

“John, you could do better. At least go for someone more attractive if you insist on dating below your intellectual level.”  
“Sherlock, he looks like you!” John asserted.  
“Are you blind, he looks nothing like me, did you see how round his nose was?” Sherlock protested. “Not to mention he is shorter and stockier than me.”  
“He’s not stocky. If he’s stocky then I am rotund.”  
“Your point being?” Sherlock quipped.  
“Keep talking like that and I will diagnose you with a weight disorder. We can’t all be skin and bones like you. He’s a healthy size,” John insisted.  
“Healthy? He’s stringy!”  
“You just said he was stocky,” John countered. “So which is he, stocky or stringy?”  
Sherlock pouted at having his contradictions pointed out and answered in a huff. “Both. Whichever is least attractive to you.”  
“Least attractive?” John thought for a moment. “Are you jealous?”  
“No,” Sherlock answered, a bit too quickly.  
“Do _you_ find him attractive?” John asked.  
“I don’t know.”  
“How can you not know? You either do or you don’t.”  
“Well, do you?” Sherlock demanded.  
“Yes. Very much so.”  
“But you said he looks like me...” Sherlock observed, trying to sound casual and failing.  
“Yes. Very much so.”  
“So you...?”  
“Yes. Very. Much. So.”  
“...oh.”  
“Yes.”  
“So if I...?”  
“Yes.”  
“...oh.”

...

Arthur: Wow, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson are [interrupted]  
Douglas: Arthur, go sit in the galley.  
Arthur: Okay, but [interrupted]  
Douglas: Arthur, galley.

...

Martin: Are you okay? You look like you’ve gotten stuck in a wind tunnel, your hair is all... tousled.  
John: Um, about that... Martin, I am really sorry, but I am going to have to cancel our date.  
Martin: Was it the landing? Because there was [interrupted]  
John: No, no. It’s just, well, something has...  
Martin: Come up?  
John: Yes, that phrase did come to mind, though I was hoping to avoid it. Listen, I really am sorry.  
Martin: No, it’s okay, I was expecting it, really.  
John: I really am sorry.  
Martin: No, really, it’s fine.  
John: Oh, I almost forgot, Sherlock gave me a note to give to you.  
Martin: “Boondoggle.” What’s that supposed to- OH! Thank you!

...

Douglas: Well, that was a disappointing flight for you, wasn’t it, Martin?  
Martin: What are you getting at, Douglas?  
Douglas: Well, you failed to get a single date, you performed one of the most _creatively angled_ landings I’ve ever been forced to experience, and you’ve lost the game.  
Martin: Tied. We are tied on the game.  
Douglas: Yes, but in a two person game, I think you’ll find a tie does not mean both players _win_.  
Martin: Boondoggle.  
Douglas: The game was already over.  
Martin: Since when? Nobody called it.  
Douglas: Well, typically one would assume that an in-flight game ends when one is no longer in-flight, but I will allow this little victory of yours, ill-gotten though it may be. Let it console you in your continued bachelorhood.

...

Mycroft stood waiting on the tarmac for his brother to exit the small plane. He was mildly surprised to see that Sherlock and John were holding hands as they climbed down the stairs. He had hoped this would happen, but had estimated it would take another few months before either of the men stopped being so stubborn and finally admitted their feelings. He decided this was worth a healthy tip for the cabin crew. As Sherlock studiously ignored Mycroft and the car door he held open for them, instead heading toward the front of the airfield to hail a cab, the co-pilot wandered up beside him.  
“I kind of figured about those two. If I were you, I would not expect any cooperation from them for a few hours at least.”  
“One learns never to expect cooperation from Sherlock Holmes. It is the only way to ensure it.”  
Douglas gave Mycroft a sideways glance. “Well, you are more an iceberg of wit than I had anticipated.”  
Mycroft smiled and continued watching where Sherlock and John had disappeared into the building. “You are not unsurprising yourself.”  
Mycroft made a mental note to find out everything known about this man including current relationship status.  
“Well, I had better be off, places to _not be_ and all that. Mainly _here_ ,” Douglas declared.  
Mycroft watched him leave and then got in his car. “Baker Street, but take the long way. And go around the block a few times.”


End file.
